


Border Boy

by GretchenSinister



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Breathplay, M/M, POV Second Person, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:19:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22080193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GretchenSinister/pseuds/GretchenSinister
Summary: Original Prompt: "When Jack doesn’t get what he wants, he grows impatient and stamps his foot/tantrums like a child, due to hanging around them so much. Bunnymund is having none of it. Bonus points if there’s spanking or asphyxiation as punishment."Jack is not really childish in the way I filled this. But there is some spanking, and there is some asphyxiation, because that last one in particular can get pretty metaphorical for a dead guy. ALSO I tried out second person POV, Jack is the “you”.
Relationships: E. Aster Bunnymund/Jack Frost
Kudos: 30
Collections: JackRabbit Short Fics





	Border Boy

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on Tumblr on 6/26/2013.

Push, but do not ask.  
  
Pretend this is normal for you (though it isn’t). It’s all right, he’ll pretend along with you. He’ll pretend along with you, for he knows that your childish rage—the flying foot that deigns to stamp the ground, the incoherent sounds that tear from your throat (so different from your righteous anger that he has seen, your anger that calls the biting winds and howls above them, your anger as vast and inexorable as a glacier, your anger that was needed to protect the children with whom, in the end, you have little in common, your anger pure and chill and sure as death, that made him, alien as he was and alien as he is, start to love you)—is not your demand for the trifle denied. It is your demand for something that will not be denied, your demand for something you will not ask for.  
  
And he understands. He made you explain once, and he made you ask once, and you hated doing so and you thought you would die of shame, but that was only once and for him that was all that was needed. And now he understands.  
  
He understands how the world was when you died, and he understands that he is alien, and you cannot, will not, do not ask.  
  
He understands your unspoken demands for the hard slaps on your backside, the stinging of your rump bringing heat and blood to your loins and sensitizing the skin for any touch of claw or fur that will follow. (You must be punished for doing this living thing, this living thing and you so cold and dead without him.) He understands that your eyelids flutter not with pain or fear but pleasure as his warm arm presses against your throat and slows your breath to almost nothing. This loss of breath recalls to you the only moment of creation you can remember on your own, dancing on the border between life and death and knowing it does not matter, not anymore, which side you land upon. You are a border boy, and he so full of life takes the breath you do not need and makes you all death.  
  
And when you feel this and like all the dead reach out for life in desperation it is the breath from his lungs he gives you as a passport across that border, and now for a time you will dance only on the life side. And when the writhing rhythm you share with him finally fails, he will give you one more breath and this is how you know that it is right that death should cling to life, that it is right that life should cling to death.  
  
But you will forget, and you will grow afraid to ask for this, this thing you crave.  
  
But you do crave it, so again, and again, you will push, and not ask.  
  
And he will understand, and will do what is needed to make you both as you should be.  
  
He knows you will ask someday.


End file.
